


Weakness

by speccygeekgrrl



Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-10-06
Updated: 2009-10-06
Packaged: 2017-10-02 12:37:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/speccygeekgrrl/pseuds/speccygeekgrrl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While they're partnered up by the company, Noah stumbles across Sylar's weak point.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Weakness

"You are such a douchebag."

"Oh, shut up. You're just pissed off because Angela loves Peter more than you, and he's crazier than a box of cats on catnip."

"That was the worst analogy you've ever made to my face, Noah. Cats on catnip? Really? You can't come up with something better than that?"

"Not when you've been pissing me off for six straight hours." Noah reached out to turn on the car radio, cranking up the volume. Sylar flicked it off with a thought. Noah turned it back on.

"You're awfully petulant for a man who should be above this behavior." Needling the older man was the high point of most of Sylar's days now, watching Noah's face flush with anger.

"You're pretty childish for pushing thirty," Noah shot back, shoving his glasses up and shooting a glare at his assigned partner. "My son is more mature than you."

"What, the son with brain damage from how many times you had his mind wiped?"

"You son of a bitch." Yanking the wheel over, Noah slammed the brakes, overshooting the shoulder and leaving the car half into grass. "Don't ever talk about my family again."

"You started it," Sylar taunted. Noah shot a hand out, intending to punch Sylar in the side, instead getting a handful of bony ribs, fingers digging in and slipping.

Sylar jumped, one hand flying up-- not even close to containing a very un-villain-like giggle. One eyebrow arching, Noah repeated the assault with intent, and Sylar howled with laughter, flinching ineffectually away from the tickling.

"Jesus-- stop it!" Noah grinned shark-sharp, getting both Sylar's sides now, amused as hell that he'd finally found the killer's weakness-- and it was the same one every kid was vulnerable to. "Noah! Fucking cut it out!" Sylar smacked at Noah's hands, too distracted to use his powers to fend the man off, wracked with giggles.

"You're like a five year old," Noah teased, unrelenting. "Oh, I have got to tell Angela this. Her own personal weapon, reduced to tears by tickling. _Priceless_!"

Finally Sylar managed to open the passenger-side door, falling out onto the grass with an "oof!" and breathless panting. Noah sat back smugly, watching as Sylar took a few minutes to compose himself. When he re-entered the car, his neatly-arranged hair was a wreck, his suit shirt wrinkled and grass-stained along one arm. Huffily re-knotting his tie, he stared straight ahead while Noah guided the car back onto the highway.

"I hate you, Bennet."


End file.
